Candour
by Rointheta
Summary: "He freezes, mouth hanging open and tongue sticking out to welcome the peanut he just brought to his lips. The voice belongs to Rose Tyler. Through his peripheral vision, he sees that the colours and features belong to her as well. Oh, he's really lost it now." Fifty years after Canary Wharf, the Doctor runs into Rose, but he soon finds out it's been much, much longer for her.


_This is the seventeenth fic in my 2013 Advent Calendar!_

**Prompt**: Doctor+Rose: Asking the tough questions.  
**Prompter**: resile  
**beta**: foxmoon  
**Note #1:** This is set roughly 50 years after s3, but s4 never happened.  
**Note #2:** I might write a sequel to this one once Christmas is over. We'll see.

* * *

**CANDOUR**

* * *

The Doctor grabs another handful of peanuts and lays them out on the bar in front of him, picking them one by one, and chewing them so many times that they disintegrate. He washes down the residue with another gulp of the amber liquor in his tumbler. It rasps its way down his throat and settles in his stomach, warming him from the inside and out until his cheeks tingle and ears burn.

No one sits on the stool beside him; no one waits for him back in the TARDIS. Martha's speech of getting out, of choosing herself, her family, and not him, seeped into his brain and refused to leave. It hangs over him in every action he makes, every word he says; it fuels him to push just a little bit harder whenever he sees his new companion reaching their limit. Some stay for a few weeks, most for a handful of months, and a rare few for a year or two. He never asks them to leave, never dumps them in Aberdeen, but they all choose to go their separate way in the end. All but…

Fifty years have passed since Canary Wharf and he has yet to get over her. The one who didn't choose; the one torn away from him. He still hears her laughter in a crowd, sees a flash of blond hair flowing just out of reach, feels faint traces of her scent lingering in the air. He feels it today as well. Not her shampoo or perfume, not her lotion or her makeup, but her.

"This seat taken?" a young woman asks.

He freezes, mouth hanging open and tongue sticking out to welcome the peanut he just brought to his lips. The voice belongs to Rose Tyler. Through his peripheral vision, he sees that the colours and features belong to her as well. Oh, he's really lost it now.

"Nah," he says and eats the peanut, crushing it between his molars.

"Wait." She lays her hand on his arm; his eyes drift to the side, staring at her chipped nail polish and sturdy fingers, holding his breath. "I didn't… Your suit's blue, the hair's a bit different, but that face… I know you!"

The breath rushes out of him. He swallows and sucks in more air, nose full of her scent—Rose's scent—strong and clear, whirling into him and muddling up his brain. He squeezes his eyes shut and blocks her out, but her fingers tighten around his arm and brings him back.

"Oh, my god. Doctor? It's me. Rose. D'you remember me? I used to travel with you."

Clutching the bar, he turns around to face her and the penny drops, dragging his jaw with it. "Rose… You're real."

"Oh, you do remember!"

He knits his brow. "Of course I remember. What…?"

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I…" He shakes his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Rose! You're really here?"

She crinkles her forehead, peering at him. "What? Did you miss me?"

He emits a few breathy chuckles, throwing his head back as they turn into solid guffaws. He gets up on his feet and wraps his arms around her, burrowing his head into the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent without shame.

"Whoa, there, sailor." She places her hands on his shoulders and pushes him away.

"What? But…" He frowns, eyes searching hers for a hint of what she's feeling. "Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"Eer…" He runs his fingers through his hair. "How did you…?"

"How did I what?"

"How did you come here?" he says, pointing at the floor.

"Oh. I have a vortex manipulator. Met a Time Agent— You know what that is, yeah? We used to know one." She snaps her fingers a few times, tongue touching her top lip. "Jack! Right? Remember him?"

"Of course I remember Jack!" The Doctor shows her his frustration by waving his hand in the air, frowning. "I meant in this universe. How are you in this universe?"

"Oooh, right. I hitched a ride with a group of pandimensional Oompaloompas. Well, they looked like Oompaloompas, but they were called something else… Something… God, I can't pronounce it. It's impossible with a human tongue. Maybe you could, though… Anyway, met them through work. Uhm, I used to work for Torchwood. You remember Torchwood?"

"Yeah, just a bit."

"Yeah, well that universe had a Torchwood as well, so—"

"Yes, I know! You told me that you were working for Torchwood."

"I did?"

He empties his tumbler in two large swigs. "Yeah. On the beach."

"Right! I did, didn't I? Blimey, your memory's good."

"Yes. Yes, it is," he says through gritted teeth. "I think you can go ahead and assume that I, Rose Tyler, remember everything."

"All right, all right. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

He narrows his eyes, inspecting her, and reaches inside his suit jacket to retrieve his sonic screwdriver. "Who are you?" he asks, thumb fixing the right setting.

"Didn't we establish that already? I'm Rose. You remembered me. Are you…suffering from some sort of short-term memory loss disorder or something? Like… Hm, I have a faint memory of someone telling me they'd suffered from something like that."

"Yes, me!"

"Well, there we go! I'm Rose."

"Yes, I know! I'm not suffering from it now. Who are you? My Rose wouldn't—"

"Your Rose?" She snorts. "I'm not your Rose, Doctor."

"No, you're not." He scans her with the sonic, but she swats it out of her face. "How dare you walk in here, wearing her face, and try to—"

"Oi! Stop buzzing me with that bloody thing, sit down, and I'll just tell you what you need to know, you plonker."

He held up his hands, eyebrows raised. "Bossy."

"Yeah, that's right. I was director of Torchwood for a few centuries. Don't think you can stick a sonic in my face and just—"

"What?" He scrunches up his face, gaping. "What?! What?!"

"Yeah." She smiles. "As it turns out, I don't age."

"How-how… How old are you?"

"Oh, dunno. Lost track. About thirteen hundred years I reckon."

"You—" His breath leaves him as he slumps down on the stool. "Oh, Rose. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" She tilts her head and squints at him. "You're not to blame, Doctor. I created myself, remember? Besides, I've had a wonderful life."

"But… You— Your mother, Pete, Mickey, the-the baby… You've lost all of them."

"Blimey! That's ages ago! Trust me, Doctor. I'm coping." She laughs. "Yeah, all right, I admit it was hard at first, but after a while… I lost them. Then my brother's kids, their kids. All my friends, coworkers, neighbours… But it's a part of life, isn't it? I've learned how to deal with it. When I came back here—"

"Why did you? Come back here."

"Actually… Well, as I said, I've lost everyone. And after working for Torchwood for hundreds of years I just…" She blows out her breath in a slow, steady stream and shrugs. "I barely remember my childhood, you know. Bits and pieces, yeah, but… Hold on. Let me get a drink." She waves at the bartender, who darts up to her, polite smile on his lips. "I'll have what he's having. And make it a double."

She nicks peanuts, tosses them up in the air and catches them with her mouth, grabbing another handful and repeating the trick until the bartender puts down a full tumbler in front of her. She winks at him and guzzles it down right away, tapping the rim of the glass to signal that she wants a refill.

The Doctor holds up his glass, jiggling it and nodding at the bartender, who fills up his tumbler as well. "You can put it on my tab."

"Yes, sir."

"You were saying?" the Doctor asks Rose.

"Right. So, I met those Oompaloompas and I took a chance. Didn't have anything to tie me to that universe and I… I felt like I'd lost myself. Didn't remember who Rose Tyler was anymore. Didn't remember how she spoke, how she dressed, how she styled her hair. I've been so many different people, changed myself depending on what was needed of me. Firm in the board room. Rough out in the field. Sleek or charming at parties… Well, you catch my drift. But who was I? Deep down, yeah? And I couldn't go back in time, because Rose Tyler never existed. But here?" She grins, running her finger around the rim of the tumbler before taking a sip. "So, I went back."

"To the Powell Estate?"

"Yeah. Bleached my hair—it was blue when I got here," she says with a laugh. "Was all the rave back home. That look was not good for me, though. Uhm, yeah, bleached my hair and got time appropriate clothes and went to the Estate. It was… Well, it was like coming home, you know, since-since it was. I met Shareen and it was the strangest thing. I couldn't remember her all too well, but she felt just right, yeah?" She smiles, warm eyes flitting over his face. "Like you…" She takes a swig of her drink. "Told her I lost my memory in the Cybermen attack, that I only remembered fractions of my life. She helped me 'get on my feet', so to speak. Spent fifteen years there. Found a bloke. Got a job. Had a flat. Did that whole thing. What mum would've wanted for me. I even married him."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"So…" The Doctor stares at her empty ring finger, an ugly sort of satisfaction settling inside him. "Didn't work out, then? Or where is he?"

"Dead. Got run over by a car. Can you imagine?"

"Oh… Yeah, sorry."

She shrugs. "It's okay. I loved him, and I mourned him, but… I was just being a tourist, yeah? It was like visiting an ancestor's place of birth and walking a mile in her shoes…" She covers an embarrassed chuckle with her hand. "God, I really sound callous, don't I?"

"Suppose? Oh, I don't know." He gives her a crooked smile. "I relied on you to keep me in check."

"Ah, that's right. And how's that going for you now? Got someone making sure you behave?"

"I'm alone." He swirls his drink, watching the amber liquid sloshing against the glass. "People come and go, but no one sticks. What happened after that, then? After your husband died," he asked, cringing inside at how tense his voice sounds.

"Didn't see a point in staying. People were starting to find it strange that I didn't age. Had a vortex manipulator with me, so I jumped ahead to 200 100. Reckoned I could find Jack. That, I remember, see. Remember all of it. What happened on the game station after I came back. Bad Wolf." She chuckles, but he doesn't hear any mirth in it. "That I brought him back to life. That he can't die. Reckoned he could be a good friend to have since… Well. I'm not like him. I might be able to die. Not much felt like testing that theory. I heal quickly, though. Don't age, as far as I can tell. Anyway. I couldn't find him. Been travelling ever since. Finding trouble. People to save. You know. Same old."

"You tried to find Jack? Jack? We had almost three years together, Rose, and you spent, what, months with him? And that's who you try to find?" He huffs out a breath, gawking at her for a second before schooling his features. He turns back on his stool, facing the bar and picking with the peanuts. "What you said on the beach… It's-it's not true anymore, is it?"

"What? What did I say?"

"That…" He swallows down the lump in his throat. "That you…" He lets out a sigh and rubs his eyes under his glasses. "Oh, never mind. Doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I remember now." She places her hand on his shoulder and it burns through his many layers of wool and cotton; yet, he can't find it in himself to shrug her off. "Doctor, I'm sorry, but it's such a long time ago. You don't love me still, do you?"

He clenches his jaw, and jumps when he feels her finger follow his dimple. She hums and slides off her stool, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. He can't help but sling an arm around her waist and pull her closer, revelling in the familiarity as he breathes her in. He senses the slightest difference in her smell and his tongue tingles with the need to dart out and taste her, to catalogue her flavour and compare it with the one he remembers from the few times he got to kiss her. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, then pulls away.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm always all right."

She hums and sits down on her stool. "When I was trapped, because that's what I was, Doctor. That's what it felt like. When I was trapped, all I could think of was finding my way back to you. I fought, with everything I had, to get back instead of living that wonderful life you wanted me to. 'Cause I thought, what's the point of it, if I can't share it with you? But after a while I started to forget things. I couldn't remember which side of the bed you slept on the few times we shared one. Couldn't remember if you drank tea or coffee; if you were left-handed or right-handed."

"I'm ambidextrous."

"Ah, well, that's probably what threw me off, then," she says with a laugh and he chuckles. "Then, one day, I didn't remember your face anymore. I remember facts, yeah? Brown hair, brown eyes, freckled, tall and gorgeous, but your face was gone. Your voice. The way it felt to be hugged by you. What my dreams about you were. My hopes. Something remained, though. The determination to get back to you. I was obsessed. It stopped being about you and me and started being about, dunno, just succeeding, I suppose. So, on the two hundred year anniversary of being trapped, I decided to let you go. Two hundred years, Doctor, of always having you, getting back to you, in the back of my mind. I had to let you go."

"Yeah."

"You get it, right?"

"I… Yeah."

She sighs and shifts in her chair. "Listen. It's not the only reason why I didn't seek you out."

He turns his head to her, but keeps his eyes on the peanuts laid out in front of him. "Oh?"

"I've forgotten a lot, but a few things… I've never loved anyone like I loved you. Not even Hamish—"

"Hamish?"

"Oh, yeah. That's my husband. Nice bloke. Peculiar parents. Anyway, during all this time, he was the only person I ever committed to. 'Cause you… How could anyone compare to you? You made me so happy, Doctor. Whatever happened, whatever we went through, I was happy 'cause I was with you. I felt like I could do anything. Like I was brilliant."

"You are brilliant."

"I know. But for nineteen year old me, that was a novel sensation. And I loved you for it. Loved you so much I promised you forever. And you…" She dances her fingers over the bar until she reaches his hand and curls them around his little finger. "You accepted."

"Yep."

"And then you sent me away."

"I did what I thought was best for you."

"Oh, I know. I've never questioned your intentions, Doctor." She chuckles. "Look at me. Lying. Of course I have. But… I don't resent you for it. I know you thought you did the right thing. But now I'm back. I'm back and I can actually give you forever. Your forever. And I remembered enough of you to know that you would never have accepted had you known about my…condition."

"That's what you think? That's what made you…"

"Do you blame me? That level of commitment, Doctor… You wouldn't want me anymore. You don't want forever."

He takes a sip of his drink. "Do you?"

"I don't know. I—"

"Rose," a blue-skinned man says, leaning against the bar between her and the Doctor. "What's up? Is this guy bothering you?"

"Definitely not." She smiles and strokes the man's arm, and tiny ridges raises in his neck and the back of his bald head. "I met an old friend. I'll be back in a bit. Just wanted to catch up."

The man hums and appraises the Doctor before bowing. "Any friend of Rose's is a friend of mine. Pleasure." He turns back to Rose and leans in; the Doctor closes his eyes, grinding his teeth at the wet sounds of a brief, but intimate kiss. "See you soon, love."

Rose touches the Doctor's arm. "He's gone. You can open your eyes now."

"Thought you said you don't commit."

"I don't. Kix is my lover. And I've had several over the years. I can't live like you, Doctor. I love sex, have needs, and find people who can satisfy me. Don't get me wrong. I care for him. But Kix isn't my partner. I've made no vows. He's just someone I meet now and then. As a matter of fact…" Her face splits into a grin so radiant it knocks the breath out of him and he can't help but grin back, even though jealousy slithers in the pit of his stomach. "D'you know why I went over here?"

"No."

"I saw you and I just felt… Like I wanted to get to know you. Didn't see your face. Just your back, your neck. Was all it took for me to be drawn to you." She runs her fingers through the short hairs in the back of his head. "Used to be longer, didn't it?"

"Yeah."

"These are different as well," she says, stroking one sideburn.

He shivers. "Yeah."

"So, I came here to seduce you." She lets out a peal of laughter. "Oh, had I only known, huh? Are you even, uhm, seducible?"

"Seducible…" He chuckles and shakes his head, lifting his tumbler to his mouth. "Yeah, that's the question, isn't it?" He empties it and signals the bartender to give him a refill. "So, what? You would've just left Kix, then? Hm? Your little, blue loverboy."

She exhales through her nose in a silent laugh. "Oh, Doctor. Forgot how jealous you can be. And, yeah, I would've left him for the night. Or, if you'd been so inclined, asked if he was invited to join us."

"Hm."

"But…that's not gonna happen, right? Even if I were able to actually seduce you, you'd never share, would you?"

"No."

"Yeah… Had I known you were you, I wouldn't have wanted to share either."

He blinks. "Oh?"

"Why are you in a bar, anyway? Never was your thing, was it?"

"I had a meeting with someone. He left a few hours ago. Don't know," he says with a shrug. "Just seemed like a good place to sit for a bit."

"Right. You're alone."

He takes a swig of his drink. "Yep."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well…"

"How long?"

"Couple of months."

She leans her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I hope you find someone soon."

"You could—" he says, before his mouth catches up with his brain.

"Come with you? I could. I don't have any ties. It sure would beat travelling with a vortex manipulator. And I'm tired of hotels, motels, inns, bed and breakfasts, and taverns, and…" She sighs. "I doubt it would be very sensible of me, though."

"Yeah." He nods and pinches a peanut between his fingers, lifting it to his mouth and feeling her head slide off his shoulder.

"What's the offer, anyway? Am I to be your assistant? Your companion? Your very platonic best mate?"

He shrugs at puts another peanut into his mouth.

"Doctor, why are you asking me?"

"I didn't."

She huffs out a tired laugh. "Can't believe I'm actually considering this. Look at you. You're such a child, Doctor. And yet… God, I must be mad." She pauses, taking slow sips of her drink and he watches her through the corner of his eye. A faint blush covers her cheek and his hand buzzes with the need to touch her. He clenches it and lets it drop to his side. "I don't want to be asked because you're lonely, or jealous, or because you can't stand that I don't love you anymore."

She puts down her empty glass and stands up with a sigh. He hums and nods, staring at his drink and ignoring her, but her warm fingers on his cheek returns his focus on her. They slide down to his chin and tilt his head to hers with a firm, but gentle, grip.

"Look at me," she says and he lifts his gaze, breath hitching as he meets her warm, sparkling eyes. "I would fall for you. I'd fall and I'd be trapped again. 'Cause I'm not sure if I could get over you this time. Two hundred years, Doctor…" She runs her thumb over his bottom lip. "If you mean forever, though?"

She leans in and his eyes drift shut as she brushes her lips to his in their first real kiss. A soft noise born in the back of his throat escapes him, and he slides off his stool and wraps his arms around her body, bending her backwards the slightest bit. She cradles his cheeks in her hands and presses close to him as she moves her mouth over his in far too chaste kisses. He sucks a little on her full bottom lip to get her taste on his tongue, but she doesn't open up and he doesn't push things further. It takes him a few seconds to return to the present when she steps out of his embrace, and he flutters his eyes open, finding her smiling at him.

"I'm going back to Kix, now."

He feels his besotted grin slip and morph into a thin, tense curve, corners of his mouth turned down.

"Oh, Doctor." She ruffles his hair and he frowns at her. "I'm at The Pink Pagloo. Small motel a thirty minute walk from here. Be there three hours after sunup tomorrow. If you still want me. If you want to pick up where we left off, such a long, long time ago," she says, grinning and tugging at his tie. "Take tonight to think about it, yeah? Really think about it. Oh, dunno. Travel even. You've got a time ship. Take your time. And if you want forever—with me—be there, and I'll come with you."

She presses her lips to his once more before rushing off. He draws in a shuddering breath, searches his pocket for his credit stick and pays his bill. He keeps his eyes directed forward as he leaves the bar and heads straight to his time ship, crawling in under the grating and lets his thoughts wander as he tinkers.

* * *

.

* * *

Rose hoists up her backpack on her shoulder and walks out of the lobby with brisk steps. The vortex manipulator hugs her wrist and she punches in the coordinates to her next destination. She's spent several days with Kix and it's time to move on until the next time she misses him and seeks him out. She doesn't press the dematerialisation button, however. She needs to know first.

At this hour, the sun showers the city in a soft light, but won't provide much warmth until mid-afternoon. She wraps her loose-knitted cardigan tighter around her body as she steps out on the pavement. A breeze blowing through the street, ruffles her hair and she tucks it behind her ears before taking a good look around.

A thrill runs through her body, fluttering in her stomach, when she seems him. He's parked his time ship farther down the street and he's leaning against it, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. The blue wood sparks something in her, brings old memories back, and she can't help but break out in the widest grin. He nods at her and walks through the door, leaving it open for her. She slides off the vortex manipulator without hesitation and stuffs it into her backpack before darting down the street and into her new life with the Doctor, her hair dancing against her shoulders.

* * *

**the end**


End file.
